


Beneath Red Waters

by 94BottlesOfSnapple



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Internal Monologue, Julian Devorak Is A Dramatic Idiot, Metaphors, Pining, Post-Book VII, Post-breakup, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-29 00:24:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12618952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/94BottlesOfSnapple/pseuds/94BottlesOfSnapple
Summary: aka "the one where Julian sees the vampire eels as a metaphor for himself"When he leaves Syneas at her shop, Julian means to head to the Rowdy Raven. Drink away his sorrows. Or maybe to Mazelinka’s, to be comforted and scolded in equal turns. The place he ends up is the aqueduct.





	Beneath Red Waters

**Author's Note:**

> The super-angsty Julian voice in my brain wouldn't shut up until I wrote this out. So... Here you go.

When he leaves Syneas at her shop, Julian means to head to the Rowdy Raven. Drink away his sorrows. Or maybe to Mazelinka’s, to be comforted and scolded in equal turns.

The place he ends up is the aqueduct.

Strange, to think his fateful encounter with the magician he can’t get off his mind was only the other night. He paces for a few minutes, bursting with restless energy, with a stinging melancholy.

But then Julian’s eye catches on the translucent forms swirling through the red-tinged water like ghosts, and he pauses.

_They’re not aggressive, the eels_ , he remembers himself saying. _And they wouldn’t be here if not for the…_

“The Count,” Julian repeats aloud, and settles himself on the bank of the aqueduct. “You and I really aren’t so different, are we…?”

The vampire eels don’t answer, of course, but he thinks if they could they’d agree with his assessment. They have a long history, after all, he and the eels.

Not these very ones, obviously. Highly unlikely. But Nevivon is home to more than soothing salt baths. Much of Julian’s childhood had been spent watching these ethereal ribbons weaving through the cold, muddy waters of the swamp with Pasha by his side.

And now, like him, they’re far from home, all because of Lucio. Confused. Afraid. Twisted out of their natural purpose by a man with no understanding of anything but his own selfish desires.

Julian can still feel the hatred for Lucio bubbling in his veins, a remnant of that farcical play. After stepping into his own shoes, as it were, it’s so easy to imagine having done the real deed too. How simple it would have been for him, three years ago when he was wreathed in frustration and fear and desperation, to just let himself go. To let whatever darkness burned within him engulf Lucio, blot him from the pages of history like an errant penstroke. Julian is certain now, even if he hadn’t committed the murder he easily could have. And the very idea of it is sickly satisfying.

Which is all the more reason to have let Syneas go. She’s too… Not innocent, no, but bright. Soft. Volatile in her own way, of course, but so very quick to empathy. So very quick to tears. Just remembering her…

* * *

 The bravery of their first meeting, so quickly dissolved into endearing awkwardness.

_“I_ know _I’m crying! Sometimes I do that when I’m angry! It’s a perfectly normal response to stress!”_

The flustered color pinking her cheeks as he stood before her, hands upturned, daring her to search him.

_“You’re a_ bastard _.”_

An outstretched arm, a concerned expression.

_“You’re still a doctor. Aren’t you? There’s no plague, but… People still get sick from other things. You could help them.”_

The helpless anger on her face, the acute pain in her eyes as she watched blood bloom beneath his shirt.

_“I never asked you to die for me!”_

A hand on his, an earnest gaze.

_“I’ll forgive you.”_

Dark, furrowed brows.

_“Is that really what you think magic is, Julian…? What kind of spells was Asra doing around you, anyway?”_

Stubborn determination.

_“I’m going to prove you’re innocent of the Count’s murder. To Nadia, to Vesuvia, even to you if I have to!”_

* * *

 Ah, she really is something.

Whoever winds up on the receiving end of her love is going to be very lucky. Once she heals up from the wound he’s dealt her heart. All for her own good, of course, but it doesn’t make it any easier. It had taken him too long to turn away from her door after she’d slammed it in his face. And maybe her criticisms were right – that he’s used to having the last word, that he’s afraid, all of it. But it’s better to have left. And he has to keep away, now. No matter how much he wants to return to her side.

One more thing he and the eels have in common, Julian supposes wryly. Once he’d gotten a taste of her, of the life and vibrancy of her, he’d latched on. Instinctively. Needing more, more, more.

He’d have drained her dry, in the end, as surely as one of the eels. Destroyed her, the way he’s destroyed everything else in his life.

“You at least have each other,” Julian tells the eels. “I suppose that makes you luckier than I am. In the end… Ah, it was just a dream. A passing fancy.”

He laughs. It’s bitter, but there’s no one around to notice.

“I really do have… The worst timing.”

He’s startled by the flutter of wings by his ear and very nearly jumps – but it’s just the raven, settling on his shoulder. The little fellow doesn’t seem to be agitated, so Julian supposes that means he’s safe from guards for the moment.

“Come to keep me company, have you?” he asks. “We fugitives have to stick together.”

The raven caws softly, as though agreeing, and plucks at the collar of Julian’s overcoat with his beak.

“You like her too, don’t you?” sighs Julian. “Our wayward shopkeep. I saw you cozying up to her at dinner. Not that I can blame you, mind. I’m not much better. Ha! To be a lovesick fool again after all these years…” He shakes his head. “Ohhh, but it’s not love... Not really. I think perhaps it could have been… But with the way things stand, there’s just no chance of it. I... I have to let her go.”

They stare out at the water together – Julian and the raven – thinking their separate thoughts, and below its glassy surface, the vampire eels swirl and intertwine.


End file.
